


Show Me

by AParisianShakespearean



Series: Dreams [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fingering, Pure Smut, Romance, Smut, masturbation kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 01:12:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12495084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AParisianShakespearean/pseuds/AParisianShakespearean
Summary: The thing Lydia likes most about tonight, is the fact that when Cullen walks in his room, the first thing he'll see is her wearing nothing but his mantle.





	Show Me

**Author's Note:**

> just wanted to write some "Cullen's SO wears nothing but the mantle during sexy times" scenario.

Lydia knows that sometimes Cullen wonders why she likes his room so much. His bed is much smaller than her expansive Free Marches four poster, and climbing the ladder can be quite difficult and doesn’t allow for any seamless transitions. They found that out after a particular moment on his desk became quite passionate. And it is true, most of the time when Lydia is in Skyhold, they retire in her quarters. But sometimes, she much prefers being in Cullen’s room. She doesn’t mind, and in fact quite likes the hole in his roof, knowing the stars are overhead. She rather likes the fact that someone could walk in his office and hear her mewling and begging for him as his mouth brings her over the edge. Most of all, tonight anyway, she likes the fact that when Cullen ascends to his room, the first thing he’ll see is her, laying in his bed, wearing nothing but his mantle.

She confiscated it two weeks ago, when an urgent call in the Exalted Plains required her attention. It smells of him, and it was a comfort during the night, when she laid awake and couldn’t sleep. Cullen didn’t even know she swiped it before she left, and when one of his letters mentioned it was missing, and he suspected Leliana was playing a trick on him, Lydia kept up with the charade. She doesn’t think he’ll mind, when she sees what her plan is. Truthfully, she only has this part mapped out, surprising him when he ascends to his room. She thinks she’ll let him plan out the rest, and Cullen often has fascinating ideas.

There’s a crick in the ladder and she knows he is finally done with his reports, and she moves to her side, hand resting on her head. She’s already flushed. thinking of his amber eyes hungrily drinking her in, as well as thinking of what will happen after. She knows he’ll be needier and more demanding since she has been away, and sometimes she thinks leaving is well worth the reunion. To see the lust in his eyes, and to have him make love to her primordially, like a lion devouring his lioness. Sometimes it’s worth it to be away and have him look at her as he’s looking at her now.

He glows in the evening light, golden hair tousled, and scarred lips set into a beaming grin when he sees her. Andraste he’s beautiful, and she hungrily drinks him in after being away. He must be so happy to see her that it doesn’t register at first what she’s wearing.

When it does, he chuckles, and she can’t help but chuckle back. She’s a tall woman, but the mantle swallows her, and reaches lower than it does on Cullen, past her knee. The fur tickles her bare breasts and back, and with the way she’s laying, it barely manages to fully cover her breast or legs.

She doesn’t think he minds much as she mirrors his smirk. “You like it, my love?” she asks him. “I’m sorry I swiped it, but…”

“You tricked me,” he teases.

“I know. But I wanted something to think of you.”

He begins to undo his armor. “Well,” he says. “Perhaps you should wear it more often.”

“Perhaps,” she echoes, fingers drifting to her breasts, teasing them underneath the collar of his mantle as a way to contend herself as more of his armor piles to the floor. Eventually he is left only his trousers and white tunic. He knows she’s enjoying the show and rolls up his sleeves, revealing forearms lined with scars that she itches to have around her body. She also takes the time to appreciate his hands. So few times that they are uncovered with gloves does she have the opportunity to admire them, so she lustfully does now. They are large and strong, rough and calloused, but his touch is never unpleasant. On the contrary, she imagined them many times since she has been away, and she’s eager for them now, grasping her hips, and breasts, and every other part of her.

Her eyes drift to his face. His lips are slightly parted with lust apparent, and unconsciously her hand begins to drift down, past her navel and the coarse hair to her center. Already she is pooling. She moves some of her arousal to her clit, pads of her fingers moving back and forth, as she’s unable to help herself. The quick and practiced movements stop however as Cullen moves to the bed, hovering over her. The back of his hands caress her face before he leans down to kiss her. She cradles his face in her hands as their lips met and part, tongue sweeping over his scar and seeking an entrance inside. He hungrily returns it, and as they kiss she can feel his clothed arousal.

“Did you think of me when you were away?” he asks when they part.

Her fingers play with the tiny wisps of hair at the base of his neck, inching for him to come down and capture her lips again. “Of course,” she replies.

“Show me.”

She stares, mouth agape.

“Show me,” he murmurs again, lowly and husky, and the tone borders the same tone he sometimes uses with his troops.

She never thought he would ever have this idea, but if the sight was so arousing earlier, her fingers at her center as she dons his mantle, she decides to let it continue for him, and show him the full extent of how she pleasures herself. Cullen still hovered over her, there’s not a single feeling of self-consciousness as she moves the mantle just enough to tease. She teases her nipples, pinching and squeezing, and never taking her eyes off of Cullen. She still doesn’t as her hand moves down to her clit, moving her fingers in a circle and arching her back, moans quiet but gradually getting louder, and not giving a damn if someone hears her below. She knows how to make herself come relatively quickly, as thoughts of him, and his hands, and everything else can do that to her. But seeing his hungry gaze on her, pupils blown wide as he watches with a mixture of wonder and lust, she slows herself down, and carries on the show a little longer, sliding a digit inside herself.

It arouses him to see her do this, as right along with her moans are his hums of approval, and the rocking of his hips against her leg in an effort to somewhat abate himself. He leans down to kiss her, and her cries increase tenfold as he moves her hand away and replaces them with his own, drawing circles over her clit. She’s on the verge of coming, and when he presses his fingers _right there_ , and slides his long digit inside she finally does, her high-pitched wail echoing in the room. She’s lost in the waves, but Cullen is there to catch her, to reel her back with his kiss.

“I couldn’t resist,” he murmurs, holding her face in his hand. In turn, she takes his hand and slides the digits that were inside her into her mouth, tasting her own arousal and sucking at his fingertips like she would his cock. He hums, and when she wraps her arms around his body and kisses him, Every I miss you, and I was lonely without you is apparent and more than obvious.

He kisses her neck, the fur tickling his jaw as she helps him remove his shirt. When it’s off and discarded her hands slide down his back at the seam of his trousers, sliding underneath to grab his rear. He grinds into her before he helps her remove his trousers and smalls, but when she tries to remove the mantle, his hands stop her.

“Keep it on,” he commands.

She nods, swallowing, and waiting for the rest, body tingling with weeks of anticipation and waiting. Yet when he only gazes at her, it strikes her how much she longed and missed this. Just this, having him near.

There is such longing in his eyes, and a thousand other things. Appreciation for her body, donned in something that is his. Pride for what his hands, taught to fight and defend, never something like this, can somehow do to her. Desire, to make love to her. Fuck her senseless, but carry it on, prolong it, and wait until they are both screaming with need.

“Cullen,” she whines, enjoying the preamble, but aching. “Please…”

“Lydia,” he echoes, dipping down, kissing her neck, and trailing down that strip of skin that the mantle doesn’t cover. “You’re beautiful. You know that?”

She does. She has never felt as beautiful as she has with Cullen’s eyes on her, his gaze seeing things in her that no other had before. It’s staggering, knowing that there is a need and demand in him for her, all the more so because it’s a demand that she matches. But never at any point does she feel she will be overwhelmed, because she knows. He will always be there to catch her.

He moves his hips, angling himself just so, the tip of his cock at her entrance. Their foreheads are pressed together, she hooks her leg over his, willing him, and waiting. Before she can guide him inside her his hands are on her arms, fingers grasping her wrists. He pins her below him and she cries out when at last, he’s inside. And he continues to grasp her hands and deluge her with kisses as he fucks and makes love to her, all of this buildup and preamble bursting at the seams and turning him into a man possessed. Equally is possessed is she, but somewhere in her mind is the want for this harder and deeper, and somehow he knows it, moving to his knees and grabbing her hips. He thrusts into her harder and she throws her head back, grabbing the headboard behind her when his fingers rub at her clit. She comes with a cry that pierces through the room, and her body boneless and languid she allows Cullen to turn herself over. On her stomach she angles her head, and he captures her lips as best he can, although it is slightly more difficult now with his stomach against the fur of his mantle. But he manages to kiss her as he thrusts inside her once more, and she captures his cries with her lips before asking, begging him, come for me, please. She wants to feel his peak, wants to have the spill inside of her, and before she can beg anymore, at last he gives, his climax arriving with a helpless cry of her name. He spills inside her, and it is warm and welcoming, and leaves her so wonderfully satiated, and complete.

“Are you alright?” he asks, stubbled jaw against her cheek. “Was I—?”

“Never,” she breathes.

The man on top of her chuckles, bestowing one last kiss before removing himself from her. She can’t help but bring herself back over to him, and he smiles as she straddles his hips and climbs astride him. Once more he admires the sight of her wearing his coat, only now she is flushed rosy pink, panting, and with hair all in a disarray.

He puts his hands on her hips, and she laughs as he squeezes her rear. “So,” he begins, slyly, hand grabbing the mantle. “When you were away, and you thought of me…you were wearing this, right?”

“But of course.”

He grins, knowing he’ll probably never be able to wear it again without thinking of her pleasuring herself. In turn, sitting astride him, she thinks of all the things he did to satiate himself when she was away.

“Next time, you show me,” she says, the erotic image already emerging in her mind, one of his cock in his hand. “I’d like to see it.”

“Would you now?”

“Yes. So when I’m away again,” she presses her lips to his ear. “I may have something else to think of.”

“You don’t have to think of anything now, you know.”

“I’m aware,” she says, before giving him more things to think of when once again, she is away. And it is only before she drifts off into the fade that the mantle finally comes off.


End file.
